


The Healing Powers of Orange Soda

by artinmyhistory



Category: Leverage
Genre: Cuddling, M/M, Orange Soda, Star Trek - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 23:29:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7733980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artinmyhistory/pseuds/artinmyhistory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliot is sick and Hardison takes it upon himself to take care of him. In his own unique, Hardison way of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Healing Powers of Orange Soda

“Star Trek?” Eliot glared at the TV screen and then at Hardison.

“Yeah, Star Trek. It’s just what a person needs to feel better.” Hardison grinned. Half because he knew it would annoy Eliot and half because the sight of his best friend wrapped in a blanket on the couch was almost too adorable for words.

Eliot glared for a moment more before deciding that he was wasting too much energy fighting a losing battle. All of his battles with Hardison lately seemed to be losing ones. He wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about that. He resigned himself to his fate as Hardison practically bounced over to sit next to him on the couch, much closer than needed if you asked him.

“We’re starting in season two of TNG cause the first season is kinda shit.” Hardison pressed the play button and the sound of the opening theme filled the air

Eliot sank lower into the cushions as he grumbled some more. He’d rather be back in that Korean prison that sit through this. 

He zoned out for most of it, eyes glazed over with boredom and fever. Though he had to admit, that Worf character didn’t seem so bad… He growled at himself. No, he was not enjoying this. No at all.

Alec, hearing his growl, chuckled and paused the episode. “How about I give you a break and make you some lunch.”  
“Last time you tried to cook you almost burned down my kitchen.” Eliot had vowed never to let Hardison cook again after that incident.

“C’mon, it’s just canned soup. Even I can’t mess that up too badly. I did manage to feed myself before you came along ya know.”

Eliot glared at Hardison’s back as the other went whistling into the kitchen. He winced at every sound of pans clanging together and dropped cutlery. Ten minutes later, however, Hardison came out carrying a steaming bowl and a cup of what appeared to be orange juice. All with the kitchen still intact.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Hardison exclaimed with a smile on his face, “Look at it, it’s practically gourmet!”

Eliot took a tentative spoonful before deciding that it was edible. “I wouldn’t go that far, but it’s not bad. Thanks.”

Hardison beamed, thanks from Eliot was a rare thing.

Eliot rolled his eyes, trying to keep a fond smile off his lips. He reached for the glass and took a drink, coughing at the taste. 

“Is this orange soda?!” He looked up at Hardison, a look of disgust on his face.

“Orange juice, orange soda. It’s all the same.”

“No, it’s not!” Eliot pushed the glass away, grumbling something about geeks and incompetence.

“Hey, you should be grateful I cooked for your sorry ass.” Hardison crossed his arms. His lip was sticking out in a pout.

Eliot sighed. “Play the show.” It was the closest thing Hardison was getting to an apology.

Hardison flopped back down on the couch. “We’re getting to a good part so pay attention.”

The afternoon wore on and Eliot was becoming increasingly more tired. It was getting to the point that he had to fight to keep his eyes open. He let out a yawn.

“Hey, if you need to take a nap just say the word.” Hardison looked at Eliot with concern.

“I’m fine.” He tried to enforce the statement with another glare but the gesture was ruined by another yawn.

“Sure you are.” Disbelief lacing his voice, nonetheless, Hardison let the matter drop.

It was barely half an episode later that Hardison felt a weight land on his shoulder. He smiled as he looked over to see Eliot fast asleep and snoring. Carefully, so as not to wake him, Hardison positioned the two of them so that Eliot lay stretched across the couch with his head in Hardison’s lap. Hardison ran his fingers through the other’s hair as Eliot shifted and grumbled. He turned off the TV as his attentions turned to the man laying in his lap. A smile tugged at his lips and he continued to card his hand through Eliot’s hair. 

He wished that Eliot would let his guard down like this more often. He was too tense all of the time, it was probably why Eliot had gotten sick in the first place. 

‘Well,’ he thought, ‘at least he trusts me to watch over him when he can’t do it himself.’ The thought left a light happy feeling in his chest and he spent the rest of the day guarding the most important person in his life.


End file.
